


The Mage, the Girl and the Portal

by Bowm8935



Series: The Power She Holds [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: After Awakening but before DA2, Anders doesn't know what to do, Confusion, Gen, Modern Character in Thedas, Modern Girl in Thedas, OC may be loosely modeled after myself, Transportation from Earth to Thedas, loosely because I make her what I wish I were
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:43:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7084297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowm8935/pseuds/Bowm8935
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A woman from earth finds herself in Thedas, without her memories. By a stroke of luck, Anders stumbles upon her and decides to try to help her. This is their story, from Ferelden to Kirkwall before DA2 begins.</p><p>This is told is first person POV from the OC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Flash

**Author's Note:**

> There is the potential for rape in this chapter, as a warning. But no actual rape.

I risked a glance at the clock, counting down the minutes until I was done with this client. Ten to go, and then I can finish my paperwork, pack up, and leave. Don't get me wrong, I love my job. I am a massage therapist at a hospital, and I enjoy helping people get over injuries, rebuild muscle tissue or simply feel better. But today... today I leave to go on vacation with my best friend, Callie. We will be meeting at the small airport in town to hop on a small plane that will take us to the bigger airport in Minneapolis, and then we start our journey overseas. England, to be precise. My excitement was nearly palpable; I've been waiting for this for years. It'll be the first time either of us have been away from our children for an extended amount of time since they were born, but mamas need a break sometimes. Especially after five years of it. Five years that added extra pounds to my 5'4" frame, gave me crows feet around my blue-green eyes and threatened to turn my red hair gray before I even reached 30 years. Five years can mean a lot.

Five minutes. I planted myself at the head of the table, kneading the client's neck. Lost in my thoughts, my hands searched and found tense spots on their own, working at the knots and taut bands. I had my suitcase in the car, but had replaced my purse with a backpack filled to the brim for items to keep me busy while on the plane. I'm an easily bored sort, so I was prepared. I only mourned the loss of my gaming systems, but alas; taking a tv and playstation on the plane may not have been possible, or recommended, seeing as Callie wanted us to _leave_ the hotel. "Aimee," she'd say, fists planted on her hips whenever I was in the middle of a spree, "get up and put some color in that pale skin."

And...done. I pushed back my chair, stood up and moved around the table. Taking out the rounded pillow from underneath her knees, I habitually went through my end of the massage spiel, sliding on my shoes and leaving the room once done. I bolted to my office, quickly writing out my session notes and putting the file away. I clocked out and swung my backpack on, trying not to bounce on my heels while waiting for her to exit the room. Once she came out, I wished her a good night and put the room back in order. Excitement pulsing through my veins, I hurried down the stairs to the front of the hospital. Rummaging through my bag for my keys, I very nearly ran into the crowd standing by the front desk, a voice yelling from somewhere in front. Easing around a couple of workers, I looked to see what was the cause of the commotion. A man was pacing near the door to the ER, tears streaming like rivers down his face.

"She was the best of us. The best of anyone, and your incompetence here is what led up to her death." His hands became fists, shaking with anger. His eyes were dark, grief filled, and darting wildly from the secretary to the nurses trying to comfort him.

"Please sir, calm down. We did our best..." one of the nurses began, to be promptly cut off at he started yelling. I flinched at the sudden loud volume, backing up a bit.

"YOUR BEST!? YOU CALL THIS YOUR BEST?" His face was contorted with rage, and he reached his hand into his jacket. "If you assholes can't even save my wife, you don't deserve to live." I gasped and started to push people back, assuming he had a gun and was about to start shooting down those around him. Mass shootings had become all too common in the United States, after all.

I was so wrong. 

A loud noise erupted and I was propelled back into a wall. Burning, tearing, pain everywhere. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. I felt what I thought was my bag against my back, digging into it uncomfortably. I couldn't move to fix it. Pain, pain, pain enveloping me, my head foggy with it. I couldn't feel my legs. My arm was... broken? Hard to say. Skin on fire, wet dripping from my ears. Soon I felt no more.

~*~

Groaning, I sat up and touched my head. How it ached. Looking around, I wondered if something had happened to my eyes. Everything was so...hazy, even with my glasses on. Colors were hard to distinguish, forms not fully in focus. The ground seemed to melt into the sky- or perhaps it was the other way around, everything tinted with a slight green. Was this a dream?

A bright light appeared to my left suddenly. I shielded my eyes and turned, making out what I thought was the shape of a woman. She slowly walked toward me, and as she came closer I could make out that she was smiling. She looked kind. Beautiful. She crouched down next to me and touched my face, fondness evident in her features. She never spoke out loud, but I heard her voice in my head.

_Don't be frightened, dear child. You are not alone._

"Is this heaven? Am I dead?" Confused, I looked around at my surroundings again. Still fuzzy, still without real focus. I could recall the searing pain I had felt moments before waking up here. It was the only conclusion I could come to that made sense. I had died, and this was heaven.

Sadness crept into her eyes, and her smile became a little less sunny. _Your life on Earth has ended, I am afraid. But you are not yet done living. You have a role to play still that cannot be disregarded._

I felt the tears well up in my eyes. "My children..."

She pulled me into an embrace and let me weep against her chest. _I am sorry for what you have lost, but there is so much more to come._ I pulled away, tears still dripping down my cheeks, and looked at her. She set her hands on either side of my head and I felt a warm, tingling sensation pass between them for a few moments before she pulled away. I suddenly felt tired, and my eyes started to close of their own volition. Slowly, I drifted off to sleep, my head in her lap, listening to her humming a song that I couldn't quite place.

~*~

"Weeeell, lookey what we have here, boys!" 

I groaned as a voice jabbed its way into my mind. I felt sore, from my head all the way down to my toes, like a herd of cattle had ran over me. I blinked open my eyes to see who was talking, questioning the intelligence of that decision when the sunlight stabbed me mercilessly. How cruel. It felt like I had a hangover but I sure didn't remember the fun part that generally preceded that. Did I drink so much that I forgot about it? Is that even possible to do? Unsure, I sat up, cradling my throbbing head between my hands and momentarily forgetting that I was not alone. Until I heard a rather disturbed laugh, that is.

"She sure looks good, boss. Think we can have at her?" Startled, I turned quickly -too quickly, as my stomach rose up in rebellion- to see who was speaking. He was a man in his mid-twenties, I'd guess, with greasy brown hair plastered to his head. He was leering at me, with a look in his eyes that made me more than a little scared. His teeth were rotten and jagged, some missing. I shifted uneasily as my brain finally started to comprehend the situation. Slowly but surely the old engines in there were firing up and coming to life. Better late than never, I suppose. 

"I don't see why not. She's ain't but alone, helpless and such. I think we oughta drag her to the woods and make her scream!" I whipped around to look at Boss (what? I had no idea what his actual name was) and was not happy at what I found. A man of about average height, he had a dark look in his eye and a twist to his mouth that made my heart slam against my ribcage. While he looked better taken care of than his friend, I could tell he was still no good- as if the concept of raping me wasn't enough proof, my brain threw at me. _Not helpful, please shut up unless you're going to be helpful,_ I chided myself. 

Looking around, I started to think about what I could do to get out of this situation. I was in what appeared to be a meadow, with a possible forest a little ways off to my left. To my right, I could see nothing but grass. So, as far as an escape plan goes, forest would probably be the best. If I could outrun them, I could make it to the trees and most likely find a place to hide. If my body would cooperate with this idea, that is. The stiffness that had taken residence throughout my body wasn't extremely heartening, nor was the rolling I felt in my stomach. But I would be willing to risk it. I was not in the mood for rape today. _Are you ever in the mood for it?_ I growled inwardly at the annoying thought. _Shut. Up._

Sighing, I decided to try my hand at acting. I put on my best look of innocence and looked up at the men. "Would you boys be kind enough to help me to my feet?" I asked, using what I hoped was a honeyed tone. "I just can't seem to stand on my own and I would be ever so grateful. I could even reward you, if you know what I mean." I waggled my eyebrows suggestively, purposefully rasping the end of the sentence. They grinned at each other before clamoring to help me up. "Oops!" I cried as I pretended to lose my balance, falling into Boss. "I'm glad such a strong, handsome man is here to catch me." He smiled down at me, eyes so cold that I felt my gut wrench in fear. Without another moment of hesitation, I kneed Boss in the groin as hard as I could and put all my power into a punch to the throat to the other and took off running toward the trees. 

"Bitch, you ain't getting away with that!" Boss yelled and started to chase after me. I swore under my breath; apparently, I was mistaken when thinking that a kick to the 'nads would take him down. Thankfully, I must have used enough force with the punch to the other guy, since he was still clutching his throat with wide eyes and seemed to be gasping for air. I willed my body to listen and tried to sprint to the trees, but his long legs caught up with me faster than I'd like to admit. He slammed into my back, causing me to fall face first to the ground. 

"Mmmrfph" was all I could get out as the air was forcefully evicted from my lungs. He grabbed my hair and painfully yanked it so that I was looking at him, tears of pain welling in my eyes. A terrible grin curved his lips. "Imma make you pay for that cheap shot, whore. Then Imma let my friends have at you until you's all used up. Then..."

But he never got to finish that threat. He released me as he screamed, flesh burning, staggering back in horror. I followed his terrified gaze to see another man striding up angrily, his strawberry blonde hair pulled back, his eyes amber but with blue swirling in them. "So you think it's a good idea to force yourself upon a helpless woman? To take advantage of her when she can't defend herself? Suck on a fireball, you asshole." With that declaration, he stopped right in front of me and started to....no.

Obviously I'm still drunk, or perhaps delusional, because it _looked_ like he pulled a fireball out of thin air and flung it at Boss. And it _looked_ like Boss fell to the ground, writhing and screaming as flames licked his skin. But that can't be, right? Because that shit is... It's magic, and magic isn't real. Everybody knows magic isn't real. So that can't be what happened, can it? Fuck, that's impossible. Yeah, I must be delusional, my thoughts are degrading into swears and that's never a good sign. Must be delusional.

The smell of burnt flesh made me want to heave. I've smelled a great many disgusting things, something you can't avoid if you're a mother and former CNA. Nursing homes have a tendency to force you to smell some not so pleasant things. But burnt flesh bypassed all of that, even the contents of colostomy bags. Unable to hold it in any longer, I rolled over and threw up the contents of my stomach. Eventually, the movement behind me stopped but whether it was due to Boss leaving or something more dire, I didn't know. I was still busy retching, dry heaving once there was nothing left. I felt a cool hand on my shoulder and jumped; concerned eyes dipped into my view. "Are you okay?"

I coughed and wiped my mouth with back of my hand, shaking. "No, I'm bloody well not okay! First, I wake up, hungover, but not able to remember what the fuck happened last night. Then I was just about raped, possibly killed. Then you come along, and bam! I start seeing things. Like you tossing what appeared to be a fireball at the sick fucker. A fireball. Crazy, right? I must have had some really bad shit last night to still be seeing things. Maybe somebody slipped me some Absinthe or something, that crap does weird shit to you... and what the fuck? I thought I saw blue in your eyes, now there's none? Am I just going insane? And where did the other guy go?" I was rambling, and I knew it. I was taking out my frustration and confusion on this man who had saved me. All the while he's just there, crouched in front of me, hand on my shoulder, watching me with concern. I sighed, and slowed my speech. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound ungrateful. You saved me, and I thank you for that. Just don't mind me being all crazypants over here."

He smiled a little. "Crazypants? That's a new one. But no, you're not crazy. I hit him with a fireball. He deserved it. As far as the other, he fled once he saw me use magic." His expression darkened, blue swirling in his eyes again, and when he spoke, his voice had dropped a couple of octaves and reverberated through me like the heavy bass at a concert. "It was unjust, and he has been punished for it." Blinking rapidly, the blue dissipated and he sighed wearily. It was then I noticed how tired he looked. "I want to make sure you're alright and check you for injuries, but I think we best move on to town and find an inn for that." He stood up, reaching his hand out to me. I took it, looking up at him warily as he helped me to his feet. Once he let go, I knew I had made a mistake by standing. I started to shake, and blackness crept along the edge of my vision. "Fuck," was all I managed before I passed out again.


	2. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super creative with my titles. Apologies.

Uncomfortable.

I shifted, trying to rearrange my body so that I didn't feel lumps underneath me. The attempt was unsuccessful, so I tried rolling over. Still not comfortable, I blearily opened my eyes, confused as to why my mattress seemed to be harder than usual. I sat up quickly, alarmed, looking around the unfamiliar room. It wasn't very large, with a small window that revealed that it was dark outside. The walls were made of wood, not of the best quality, from what I could tell. There was a small fireplace, lit, warmth emanating from it. To the left of the bed was a chair. An occupied chair. My eyes widened at the sight of the man with the strawberry blonde hair, fast asleep. His head was rolled back, neck stretched out over the back of the chair, his arms and legs splayed. It hardly looked comfortable, and I felt a bit guilty that I was in the bed- though I felt a bit like the princess and the pea with my inability to reach a position that allowed me to sleep again. 

While I was watching him, my bladder made its needs known. Well, shit. I peered around the room closer, willing myself to see a hidden door, _something_ , leading to a bathroom. With no success, I sighed. Apparently quite loudly, as the man stirred and looked at me through sleepy eyes. A lazy smile adorned his face, and I felt my face heat as I finally noticed how _hot_ he was. This only made him smile wider, and he sat forward, hand rubbing his neck as his eyes twinkled. 

"So I see you're finally awake. While that's good, but I do wish it weren't in the middle of the night." He chucked, standing up and stretching, which allowed me to notice how tall he is. Which is very, by the way. "But it does allow me to get your permission to check you over, to make sure you're okay. I'm a healer," he added on quickly when he noticed me flinch at the prospect of that. "It's my job to make sure that you're okay and, if you're not, to help you get better. That's all." He held up his hands in a mock surrender pattern, eyes warm, still smiling. I relaxed a little, though still wary of this unknown. "By the way, my name is Anders."

Anders. I frowned, trying to figure out why the name sounded familiar. When he had said it, a part of my mind lit up and felt almost... itchy. Yes, itchy. I can't think of a better way to describe it, so there it is. And I desperately wanted to scratch at it, but I had no idea how. Apparently I sat frowning for too long, as his smile faltered. Then he plastered it back in place, though obviously fake this time, before leaning his head toward me and inquiring my name.

"Ah, right. My name. My name is..." I hesitated, pulling up a blank. Shit. What is my name? I can't think of my name?! That's not good. That's very not good. Not wanting to let on that I seemed to be having a memory issue, I hastily made up one. "My name is Caydee. Caydee... Pendragon." As soon as the name left my lips, I groaned and had to resist the strong urge to crawl over to the nearest wall and give it a hug. With my head. Caydee was innocuous, as it was simply the name of my druid in World of Warcraft (and why the hell can I remember _that_ but not my actual name?) and is probably not all that rare, but Pendragon? Really? I had to take the name of King Arthur and make that my surname? For fuck's sake. He would surely figure that out.

He held my gaze for a few moments, searching for something, then leaned back in his chair and nodded. "Alright. Nice to meet you, Serah Pendragon. Or would you rather me call you Caydee?"

I shrugged, averting my eyes. "Call me whatever you like, but I really need to pee and seem to be unable to figure out where I do that." 

"Oh!" He immediately jumped to his feet. "Yes, sorry. This isn't a very high-class inn, so it doesn't have a water room in here. You have the option of using the chamberpot," he pointed at a black cauldron-like bowl in the corner, causing my nose to wrinkle in disgust at the thought, "or you can go use the communal water room. I can show you the way, since you were passed out when we arrived." I nodded at the last part, and he held open the door into the hallway, holding a candle in one hand. I paused for a moment, curious as to why he was using a candle. Were we in some place too poor to have electricity? My bladder didn't care for this line of thought and impatiently urged me to hurry. He placed his hand on my elbow and directed me to what seemed to be a small closet. He quickly set the candle down inside and motioned for me to enter. I stepped inside, unsure what to make of it all. It was little more than what I expected to find in an outhouse, except inside. I did my business, washed my hands in the basin of water and grabbed the candle, slipping back into the hall. We returned to the room, but the confusion I felt must have been painted across my face, because once we entered he gently took the candle from me and sat me on the bed.

"What is wrong, Caydee? You look rather disconcerted." Anders sat down slowly next to me, his hand on my shoulder. "In fact, it seems like you are shocked with just about everything since I met you. I could understand your reaction to my magic, but you seem so unfamiliar with this," he swept his hand around in a grand gesture encompassing all of the room, "that I am concerned."

I was wringing my hands. Odd, I don't usually do that when nervous, but I am so out of my element here, I suppose it's not a surprise. I jumped a bit when he moved his hand from my shoulder and placed it on top of them, stilling the movements. I peeked up at him from under my hair, looking into his sincere eyes. Goodness, he was gorgeous, all angles and delicious freckles. Being so close to him only made that more obvious. Lord take me, because I am not used to being in close proximity with hot men, especially hot men who are touching me. 

I gave myself a big mental punch to get back on track, sighing, resigned myself to telling him the truth. So I began my tale, starting with waking up in an unfamiliar place, and ending with how this inn lacks any of the comforts I had at home. He chuckled at the last bit, saying he wasn't really all that surprised. It's not hard to be better than this. He didn't get it, I could tell. I took a deep breath and tried to clarify.

"No, I don't think you understand. I mean it lacks all the basic items I am used to. There's a fireplace, not a heater. No bathroom, no sink. You piss in a pot or go to what looks like the community outhouse instead of using a toilet. There isn't even electricity, for Pete's sake!"

His brow knitted, he held up his hand and sparks flew from his fingers, causing me to jump in alarm. "There's electricity here, I just have to conjure it. And stop that, I'm not going to hurt you."

It was all too much, apparently. Much to my chagrin, I started crying. Anders' eyes widened in surprise before he hesitantly pulled me to his chest and held me. I sat stiffly at first, unsure how to handle this display. I am not one for much touch, and I hate crying in front of people. I pride myself in my ability to keep my emotions in check, yet here I was, falling apart in front of a stranger. "This makes n-n-no sense. I d-don't unders-stand it."

"What doesn't make sense, Caydee?" he asked softly, stroking my hair. I leaned into him, relaxing a bit before continuing.

"I can't remember who I am. I can remember s-some of my life, my interests, my hobbies, stupid, non-important th-things. But I can't remember my name, I m-mean my real name. I just m-made up a name so you wouldn't know. I can't remember where I c-come from, except that it's not here. I know because this is all wrong. M-magic isn't real. There's no power, not even a hint of f-familiarity here. I'm lost, and I d-don't know what to do!" I wailed in between sobs. They were getting stronger, wracking my whole body. Anders just continued to hold me, stroking my hair, silent until I started to calm down. When my fit finally passed, he put a finger under my chin and lifted it until I was looking at him.

"I don't know where you're from, but I promise you, if I can help you in any way, I will," his voice, soft and warm flowed through me. "But first, you have to let me see if there is anything my magic can fix. Please, just trust me in this." I bit my lip, unsure what to do. On one hand, I had seen his magic and if seeing is believing, then, well, I had no excuse. But on the other hand, I just innately _know_ this can't be real. I debated inwardly for a while before finally drawing back and nodding at him. 

"What do you need me to do?"

He gave me a small smile. "It works best if I have direct contact with your skin. Would you be willing to strip down to your breastband and smalls?" Biting my lip again, I slowly drew my shirt over my head. I set it to the side and then worked on my jeans. I slid out of them (they seem almost too big?) and set them on top of my shirt and then laid down when he directed me to. He had a strange look on his face that I queried about. "I've just never seen clothes like yours before, and I've seen a lot of different types. Your breastband is particularly...different." I could see him puzzling over it, but he laid his hands on my head and they started to glow a light blue. I gasped involuntarily as a tingling warmth started to spread throughout my body. This...this felt _good_ , almost in a sinful way. I tried to hide my pleasure but failed, causing him to direct that lazy smile at me again. "Yes, healing magic does tend to feel pleasant, doesn't it?" He paused for a moment over my throat, and I had the strangest sensation of something changing. Was he fixing my thyroid? 

Working his hands down my body he paused around my abdomen, frowning a bit. He sent out a little stronger wave of his magic and, God help me, my hips bucked up toward his hands. I felt myself turning shades of red, his soft laugh doing nothing to help. He moved on, literally going all the way to my feet before he turned that damn magic off. By this point I was shamefully turned on and probably as red as a tomato. He reached over and handed me back my clothes, which I all but jumped into as fast as I could. 

"You're primarily fine, but there felt like you had something foreign in your abdominal region." He motioned toward the area, his look thoughtful. "I couldn't seem to figure out what it was."

"Oh, that's just my birth control," I blurted out before I could stop myself. My hand clamped over my mouth, horrified. He quirked an eyebrow at me. "Birth control?"

I shook my head to try to dissuade him from asking further, but it didn't work. Sighing, I explained to him about the IUD and how it worked. His eyebrows raised, and when he spoke, it was in a tone of amazement. "I've never heard of such a thing, that's amazing!" I grumped about how it was amazing until it's time for it to come out (which, frighteningly, I had no idea when that was now) but he didn't seem to agree. "That explains why it felt weird down there. But I also noticed that your head felt a little...off. Almost like there was a shield, protecting a part of it." 

I paused, thinking about the itching/scratching dilemma I had earlier. Was this perhaps akin to when Death put up a wall in Sam's head to keep him from remembering hell? He did say the wall would itch but advised him against scratching at it. I shook my head to get rid of those thoughts; this was real life, not an episode of Supernatural. So very not helpful, and so very annoying to remember _this_ but not my name.

Anders had continued to talk, and I belatedly tried to latch back onto his train of thought. "...could explain why you can't remember anything, though it would most likely be through blood magic." 

Head spinning, I laid down on the bed, placing an arm over my eyes. Too much, this is all too much. I felt the bed shift as Anders moved, placing his hand on my shoulder again. "I'm sorry, am I upsetting you again?" I shook my head, unable to vocalize what I was thinking. These revelations were draining, and I was finally starting to feel tired again, so maybe I could get some more sleep. He seemed to sense this. He started to get up off the bed, and I surprised both of us with my arm shooting out to hold him still. "No please, stay. I don't think I can be alone right now." Pulling my other arm off of my eyes, I looked up at him pleadingly. I could feel the beginnings of an anxiety attack approaching.

He held my gaze, thoughtful, before sliding under the covers and holding out his arms. "I'm never one to pass up a good cuddle," he said, waggling his eyebrows at me. I giggled and slid into his hold, shutting my eyes and letting sleep claim me.


	3. The phone

"Templars have abilities that can nullify magic, or even completely drain the mana of a mage. Have I explained mana yet? I'm awfully bad at this," Anders placed a hand on the back of his neck, grinning at me sheepishly. He was talking a mile per minute, explaining the concepts of magic (which was, honestly, mostly going over my head) as well as struggles faced by mages. Once he figured out that I was clueless on, well, basically everything, he took it upon himself to attempt to educate me. Now, I pride myself on being fairly intelligent and able to grasp new things quite quickly, but most of this was so out of my norm that I was having a little bit of a hard time. I understood the basics of what he was saying; mages are feared for being born with this great power, they are sent to places called Circles of Magi to be trained (though he made them sound more like prisons than schools), templars are essentially the police force from the Chantry (their church) that are set aside to deal with mages... yeah. Easy enough. But occasionally he ventured into the process of magic and what it entails, and there, he lost me. Admittedly, part of the issue was that I was was drifting off back into my mind to contemplate the issues I was facing myself- lack of memory of base details about myself while somehow still being able to remember certain things that I enjoyed, such as my TV shows and games that I spent free time on. Not to mention the feeling of utter wrongness I felt in general, like I was not supposed be here. 

I looked down at my feet, watching the hard dirt beneath my feet. Anders was headed to a dockside city, intent on leaving this particular country. Ferelden, he called it. When I had asked him why he needed to leave, he had become quiet and started glowing blue a bit. It seemed as though my question had lit an internal battle, one he fought for a for moments. He stopped walking and placed his head in his hands, taking a few deep breaths before looking up at me. I watched the blue fade from the amber as he said, "That isn't something I feel comfortable talking about right now. Just know that I have good reasons." Nodding, I turned away, thinking. We started walking again, slowly. 

"Do you mind if I come with you? I mean, I don't really have anywhere to go, and I don't seem to be able to remember anyone..." Tears started to fill my eyes as I considered exactly how alone I was. I flinched as a hand reached out and settled on my arm. He pulled me to look at him, eyes kind. 

"Of course you can come with me. I would never abandon you when you're so obviously lost." He hugged me for a moment before pulling away. "But for now, let's keep going. Maybe later we can dig into that mystery bag of yours together and see if we can find something to jog your memory." He tossed a lazy smile in my direction. "Anyway, mana is the energy we mages use to power our spells..." 

_Laughter drifted past my ears as I jerked my jeans up again in vain. I turned and glared at Anders. "I fail to see how the fact that my pants won't stay up is amusing."_

_His eyes twinkled as he held up a bag. "I believe this is yours. Maybe you will find something of use in there? Although I can't say you being pantless would be the worst fate." He winked as he tossed it at me._

_Shooting daggers from my eyes, I caught it and turned around. His flirtations weren't necessarily unwelcome, but it was just another thing that felt wrong. I frowned at the bag. It looked familiar, felt familiar, but I didn't recognize it. It was a deep blue, with two pockets, the main large one and then a smaller one on the bottom front. The words "Police Public Call Box" were written across the top, a reference I recognized as from Doctor Who. _Good, more useless information,_ I thought, rolling my eyes in annoyance. I cautiously unzipped it, finding it to be packed to brim with random items. Phone, wallet, laptop, a couple of portable chargers complete with cords, some books, hygienic items, and, thankfully, a couple of changes of clothes at the bottom. Pulling out the clothing, I found two pairs of leggings, another bra, some underwear, a tank top and a t-shirt. Considering my options, I carefully chose the plain black leggings and the tank top, since it was quite warm outside. The leggings fit, though still a little looser than I wanted. I frowned, wondering why my clothes weren't fitting right. _

_Anders' mouth quirked at the sides as he read the writing on my top. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good?"_

_I nodded. "Harry Potter. The Marauder's Map. Don't tell me you haven't heard of it!" When he shook his head, my mouth formed a silent "oh." "Nevermind, then. Just a good story where I'm from." I carefully started placing the rest of the items back into the bag. I paused at the wallet and contemplated it; should I open it? Maybe there would be a clue inside as to my identity. A sick form of dread filled my stomach and I quickly shoved it inside, zipping it closed. Apparently not something I would find out right now._

_I stood up and turned around to see Anders holding my phone, staring at it quizzically. I stepped forward, holding out my hand. He handed it gingerly to me. "What is that thing?"_

_"It's my phone."_

_His eyes met mine, full of questions. "A phone?"_

_"Yes, a phone. You know, something you call other people with?" When no recognition crossed his face, I sighed and shyly kicked my foot into the floor. "A long range communication device. If you had one, I would push some buttons on this and talk to you, no matter where in the world you are."_

_"That's... that's amazing!" He plucked it back out of my hand, turning it over to look at it closer. "What kind of magic fuels this?"_

_"Not magic, technology. It's mechanics, electricity and radio waves of a sort."_

_He slowly raised his eyes to meet mine, apprehension filling them. "I'm really starting to wonder about where you're from, Caydee. There is nothing like this on Thedas. You speak of things that are common where you're from, yet I have never heard of them."_

_I shrugged, slipped the phone out of his hand and into a pocket on my bag. Turning around, I walked out the door to leave, Anders not far behind._

Suddenly I noticed he had quit talking. I turned to look at him, meeting crinkled amber eyes filled with amusement. "I must not be as entertaining or handsome as I thought. You keep staring off into the distance with a far away look on your face." Winking, he grinned at me with a hint of mischievousness.

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "I'm sorry, it's not you. I'm just trying to figure things out. It doesn't make sense. Some things you speak of seem familiar, but barely. It's almost like I learned about this is a class a long time ago, but never put it to use so the knowledge faded. But it doesn't seem _real_ to me. None of this does." In the back of my head, a voice was nagging at me about impossibilities. "Magic doesn't exist. I know this, like I know that I need to breathe to live. And yet here it is, in front of me, in your hands. It makes no sense."

He quieted, turning back to the road. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, watching him as he turned what I said over in my head. Finally, after what seemed like hours but was most likely only a few minutes, he answered, slowly and cautiously. "There's a lot of evidence pointing at something impossible. But it seems the most likely. You possess items that are not of Thedas, clothing that I have never seen before. You speak the trade tongue, but have an accent and use sayings that I cannot place." He stopped suddenly, turning to face me. "You know, Caydee, I'm starting to think that maybe you aren't from Thedas at all."

I felt the blood drain from my face as he vocalized what I had been thinking. Could it be? Was I transported from a different planet to here? Why? 

He reached out and grabbed my hands that I hadn't realized were shaking. Concern filled his eyes as tears started to drip down my cheeks again. Horrified, I stammered out an apology. "Hush, sweetheart," he whispered, hand coming up to cup my cheek. "You will be okay. I will help you, whether you are of this world of not. We will recover your memory, and figure out why you're here." He rubbed his thumb across my jaw softly. "And then, if we can, we will get you home."

~*~ 

We made camp near a grove of trees and a stream that night, Anders pulling out some rations he had in his bag. "The handy thing about being a Warden, you always pack supplies just in case," he explained, and then, realizing I had no idea who or what Wardens were, gave a long-suffering sigh. "That is something I will explain another time."

I nodded, relieved that he wasn't going to bombard me with still more information. My mind was still chewing on all the things he had told me earlier that day, analyzing the probabilities and impossibilities, probing it to see if it'd spontaneously combust. He handed me a thin piece of meat reminiscent of deer jerky and a small chunk of hard bread to eat, and I stared into the fire. This was all so very strange, and I was frustrated to the max about my memory loss. Suddenly a song popped into my head and I choked on the food, giggling at the appropriateness of the first few verses. Anders looked over at me in concern and I waved him off, attempting to put the music out of my head. Unsuccessful, I found myself humming the tune. 

I finished my meal and stretched, desperately wanting a hot shower. I fidgeted, then glanced at Anders. "Would it be okay for me to bathe in the stream?" I asked cautiously.

He started, gawking at me for a moment, before bursting out in laughter. "What, do you think I own it?" he wheezed, clutching his belly. "Maker, I don't care if you do. In fact, I might join you for a bit of nighttime frolicking." He waggled his eyebrows at me, still chuckling. I leaned over and gave him a light slap on the arm, chiding him about teasing me. He apologized, eyes still dancing with humor. 

Heading over to the lake with my spare set of clothes, I found a place behind some trees where I undressed and slowly dipped into the water. It was cold yet refreshing, so I waded in deeper, taking the outfit I had worn that day with me. While I washed myself off, I indulged in singing the song that was still floating around my head. "Is this the real life? Is it just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality..." Soon I was belting it at the top of my lungs without a care in the world; Bohemian Rhapsody seems to do that to people. Still caught in the throes of singing, I started doing my best to hand wash the tanktop and leggings, which probably was a pretty poor job. Once I felt clean, I climbed out of the water and sat on the grass, still naked. There were no towels to dry off with, after all, just the air. Closing my eyes, I held my arms out and just sat, reveling in the feel of it all, the serenity of the place I had found. 

After I dressed, I wandered aimlessly toward the camp, marveling at the beauty around me. I could remember not being much of the outdoorsy type, but in the moment, I had no clue why. I hung up my clothes to dry on a tree nearby and went back to the fire. Anders had already fallen asleep, and I watched him for a few moments, his breath disturbing the hair that had fallen out of the loose ponytail he kept. There may have been some sort of itchy wall in my mind blocking me from remembering why he seemed so familiar, but I didn't care; I felt like I had found a long-lost friend. Looking up at the heavens, seeing the stars blinking in and out in the beautiful night sky, I almost felt like I was _home_.


	4. On the ship

Several days later, we were sitting on the ground near the docks. Anders had told me where we were, but I was never one to have a good memory for names so I promptly forgot. The streets around us were busy, full of life. A celebration was going on in the town proper, the people enjoying a holiday called "Summerday." Sailers were marching up and down the docks, preparing different boats to head to sea. I couldn't remember ever having seen the like of it before, so I was enjoying watching the bustling around. Chewing (another) rather hard piece of bread, something caught my eye and pushed a thought through my mouth before I could even comprehend what I was saying.

"I was a mom."

Anders choked on the piece he was eating. Coughing, he looked up at me in shock. I was watching a young mother pull her son- no more than four- along behind her through the street, a wistful and sad look upon my face. I couldn't explain how I knew, but I _knew_. Upon the realization, it felt like a part of my heart had been ripped out of me, a part that I was suddenly desperate to get back. He cleared his throat, a slight red tinge coloring his cheeks as I looked at him. "No, uh... That's, that's impossible. You can't be a mother."

My look hardened slightly as I watched him gingerly take another bite. How dare he assume he knows what I can and cannot be? This is my memory, my _life_ , not his, after all. My voice cool, I responded. "I think I would know whether or not I am a mother, Anders." He flinched at the sharpness in my tone. "I may not remember everything clearly, but I have a gut feeling that I had children. Nothing you can say can change that."

A slight smirk graced the handsome face. "I think you're wrong about that." When I quirked an eyebrow in challenge, he continued. Leaning forward, he lowered his voice to a level that only I could hear. "I did a scan of your body to make sure you weren't hurt, remember? A very thorough scan. Your... protection aside, your body is fully intact still."

It was my turn to choke. I blinked rapidly to clear my eyes of the tears that had appeared from me choking. "You mean... are you saying, I'm still a virgin?" He inclined his head slightly. Heat rushing to my face, I sat back in shock. This made no sense. Just like my innate knowledge that magic wasn't real, I _knew_ I was a mother. So how could I still be a virgin? I recalled that night bathing in the stream, when I had taken the opportunity to look at the reflection of myself. I hadn't even remembered how I looked, yet there was the answer in front of me: short with broad shoulders, pleasantly curvy in the right areas, straight and frizzy dark red hair that reached to my shoulders, an annoyingly long and skinny nose, thin lips and large blue eyes. I had observed that I looked fairly young, younger than I felt mentally. Curiosity sated, I had turned away and thought of it no more.

I shook my head in a vain attempt to clear my thoughts, almost hoping to dislodge that damned itchy wall in the back of my mind. Wonderful, another thing that doesn't make sense. I'm starting to become annoyed at how much _doesn't make sense_. Anders was giving me a strange look that took me a moment to decipher. Is that... is that pity? I groaned inwardly. I'm in a strange world, unable to remember anything of real importance, with an extremely attractive- albeit occasionally glowing- man, and I just have to be such a hot mess that he _pities_ me. Ugh. 

Time to change the subject. Looking over my shoulder at the docks, I motioned toward the nearest boat with my hand. "Are we going to be able to board soon?" 

He nodded thoughtfully, the light catching his hair in a way that almost made it radiate with an ethereal beauty. I mentally slugged myself (pay attention!) and dragged my eyes back to his face when he started talking. "Yes, I do believe we can head that way once we finish eating. Thankfully, with the blight over there are not as many refugees attempting to escape Ferelden so it's slightly easier to obtain passage aboard a ship."

I took the last bite of the pitiful bread and chased it down with some water. "Where are we headed, again?"

He turned to me, his face devoid of any good humor. "We are headed to Kirkwall. The City of Chains."

I wasn't used to his features being burdened with such a grim look, so I tried to make a joke. "Doesn't that sound like a cheerful place to visit." Ugh, my sense of humor needs work. I never was very funny.

A mirthless smile appeared in response. No, not funny at all, apparently. "It is where I need to be." He stood up, facing the boat that we were to leave on. Holding out a hand, he motioned for us to head that way. I reached out and let him help me up, grabbing my bag. Holding it close to my chest, I followed him, butterflies chasing around in my stomach as we approached the ship.

~*~  
A week. We had been on this blasted boat for a week already. Anders did not handle sailing very well, as he was almost constantly green and groaning. For my part, I knew a few tricks to help with the nausea (my mind insisting it was due to morning sickness from pregnancy) that I taught him. We were currently seated in our small cabin, me pinching his wrists in the spot I knew to cause temporary relief, just waiting for it to kick in. He was absolutely miserable, moaning with his head leaning down between his legs. I shifted my fingers a bit, hoping it wouldn't take much longer. He had done so much for me, this was the least I could do.

This last week he had finally started to open up to me a little bit about his past. Turns out he was part of a group called the Grey Wardens, an army of a sort meant to stop the blights when they occurred. I could understand the concept of the blight well enough, as I had some medical background and it sounded like a rather nasty virus that the only cure for was death. I was unsure why Grey Wardens in particular were needed for this, but he had stayed mum about that. As it turns out, mages are supposed to be free while in the Wardens, and for a while, he had been. Until his Warden Commander, also the Queen of Ferelden (small world) had to return to her life at court. The Commander who took her place was apparently _not_ a fan of mages, and had essentially turned the base Anders was stationed at (in some area with a rather large name starting with an A- like I said, I'm bad with names) into another prison for him. The new Commander brought templars onto the base, and they followed Anders around like dogs, casting smites and taking away his mana basically for shits and giggles. When I asked what being zapped of your mana felt like, he had given me a queasy look (I was unsure if it was due to the motion sickness or the answer) and told me "It is like a wall slams into you and takes your breath away. Once you can breathe again, your whole body hurts, and your stomach rolls around so much you almost inevitably end up puking. Then you just feel weak, too weak to move." Horrible, absolutely horrible. No wonder he ran. 

But that wasn't all. One of his good friends was a spirit named Justice who possessed the body of a dead Warden. I'll admit I recoiled a bit at hearing that story, as it made me think a bit too much of demon-possessed zombies. Once he explained more about Justice I was able to come more to terms with it. Justice is a spirit from the Fade (where we go when we dream in this world, apparently. I wondered why my dreams seemed different) that was forced to come to the world of mortals. He stayed in this poor man's body until it was falling apart. Unsure what would happen after that, he and Anders had discussed options for Justice. Apparently they decided the smartest thing to do was have Justice hop the pond into Anders body, so he could help him fight the unjust treatment of mages. Well, that explained the blue that I saw occasionally swirling in his eyes. Having a spirit in your body isn't something the templars take well to, and they started screaming abomination and trying to kill him. He was left with no real choice but to kill them in self-defense and run for it.

After he had told me that story, he seemed resigned to the idea that I was going to walk away, leave, and never come back. I think I shocked him by staying by his side. What else would I do? He'd been so helpful to me, so kind, I would have been an ass to leave him. I get the feeling that he is lonely, so if my company brings him any happiness, I will stick around. He deserves it after all he's been through. The insane amount of flirting and the occasional blue guest was not so much of a burden to deal with.

He slid his wrists out of my grip, sitting up straighter and giving me a weak smile. "I think it's bearable now. Thank you for helping." I flashed what I hoped was a winning grin at him and stood up to bring him our lunch. Handing him a piece of dried fish, we munched for a while in silence. He had told me a lot, but I still had questions about why we were headed to Kirkwall.

"Anders?" I ventured, hoping he felt up to talking. His amber eyes swung to meet mine.

"Yes, sweetheart?" 

I shivered a bit at the endearment. It had been slipping off of his tongue more recently, although we were not intimate. I wasn't sure if it was just how he addressed friends or if there was something deeper behind it. _That_ was not a subject I was ready to touch with a ten-foot pole.

I chewed my piece slowly, contemplating how exactly to ask what I was thinking. I cleared my throat and decided to just dive in. "I understand why you left the Wardens and why you feel safer leaving Ferelden after all that. But why Kirkwall? The few things you've said about it makes it clear to me that it's no place for you. It's not safe, so why risk going there and getting caught?"

He sighed, his expression darkening. He didn't answer for long enough that I thought maybe I had touched a forbidden topic. As I was fidgeting, trying to figure out what to say to fix my mistake, he finally spoke up. "Karl," he said simply. "I'm going there for Karl." I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. After a deep breath, he rewarded my patience. "Karl was my first love. We were both a Kinloch Hold. It was a bad idea to get involved with anyone while at the circle, it gave the templars too much power over you. But I couldn't stay away from him." His eyes softened and a smile touched his lips. "Every time I ran, after the templars found me, dragged me back and punished me, he was there. Ready to soothe, always ready to help me put myself back together. The last time I escaped, I ended up being conscripted. During my time with the Wardens, Karl was transferred to the Gallows at Kirkwall." 

Comprehension dawned on me. Yeah, I'm slow, but eventually I usually get it. "You hope to break him out."

He nodded. "I want to help him, at least. But I need to get to the city and figure out what to do first. It's not going to be an easy feat." He frowned, I'm guessing thinking of how difficult the task ahead of him was. "I have to embed myself into society and find some people to work with. There's no way I can do this alone."

I reached out and laid my hand on top of his, smiling at him reassuringly. "You're not alone. I'll help you free Karl, Anders, if it is the last thing I do."

His smile was so bright, it was blinding.


	5. Clinic

"Jesus Christ, it stinks down here," I grumbled, pinching my nose as we made our way through Darktown. I saw Anders cast an amused glance in my direction as we continued walking. This part of Kirkwall was called Darktown. If it had been up to me, I'd most likely have called it "Stinkyville" or maybe just the sewers. We were headed to an abandoned building in a secluded corner of the area, somewhere he had been told would be a good place to set up a clinic. After the struggle we went through to actually get _into_ the city, (we had to wait until nightfall and do some sneaking around, as there were guards posted all over to keep refugees out) we had wandered the streets for a few days before accidentally stumbling into this place. He had been horrified at the state of the inhabitants of Lowtown- the part of the city only slightly better than this- and downright sick over the refugees hiding out in Darktown. I'm not sure why, but he had asked my opinion on what we could do to help the people. 

_"Caydee, we need to help these people out," Anders stood back up after healing a sickened old woman on the street. "This is wrong. They shouldn't have to suffer like this. No food, no coin, no healing. Nothing from the Chantry, even though it's supposed help the poor." He walked over to me, looking down at me, tears pooling in his eyes. "What can we do? I can't let this stand." The blue started swirling in his eyes and his voice deepened, "It is unjust."_

_I reached up and place a hand on his cheek. "Shh, Justice, it's okay. Let Anders remain in control, now is not the time." I had had a few more encounters where Justice was reaching forward in Anders' mind, enough to understand that sometimes talking him down right away was what worked best. I waited until the blue receded before continuing, "I'm not sure what we can do. We are not any better off than them. We also have no food nor coin." We walked along in silence, the sun burning down on our backs as we wandered aimlessly through Lowtown. He slid off to the side again to help an injured boy, and as I watched him, the idea wiggled into my brain. Would it work? I looked around before my eyes rested upon a shop indicating that they helped Ferelden refugees. Glancing back at Anders, I made my way through the door and stopped just inside._

_Behind the counter stood a woman who looked incredibly worn out. She couldn't have been more than in her fourties, but her hair was already mostly grey and her eyes, though kind, narrowed at me suspiciously. I walked up to her cautiously, hoping what I was about to ask her wouldn't cause her to run to the templars._

_"Welcome to my shop, Serah. We sell used items at discounted prices to help the refugees. My name is Lirene."_

_I smiled at her. "Hello, Lirene. My name is Caydee. I have a question for you..."_

_By the time I exited the shop, Anders was pacing where I had last been, looking worried. When he saw me, he rushed forward and pulled me into his arms for a tight hug. His cheek rested on my head as he whispered, "Sweetheart, please don't run off like that. I was worried something had happened to you. I couldn't stand it if I brought you here only for you to get hurt." Voice thick with emotion, I was taken by surprise at how much he cared._

_I laughed, pulling back. "Don't worry about me, Anders. I can take care of myself." I pulled the bow that had been resting on my back to the front to show him. "I decided I should probably be armed, just in case. It's been quite a while since I've shot one of these babies, but hopefully I can pick it up quickly again. Anyway, I figured out how we can help the refugees here." His face lit up with anticipation as he inquired what I meant. Taking his arm, I directed him towards Darktown, telling him my plan along the way, him eagerly soaking up every word I said._

"You know, this was your idea. Quit whining about the smell." Anders playfully poked me in the side. My hand flew to my chest as I feigned innocence. 

"Me? Whine? Perish the thought, good sir." I winked at him as we rounded a corner. I was rewarded with a laugh, which warmed my heart. The journey to Kirkwall had taken a lot of his good humor, and his mood had progressively gotten darker the closer we came to the city. It had only been a little over a month since we had met, but he had already changed so much during that time. In the beginning, he was a flirtatious man that seemed incapable of taking much seriously. Now, he seemed to take everything seriously, even though he sometimes tried to cover it up with joking. Every now and then I saw the Anders I had first met creep out, and I tried to latch on and drag that part back to the forefront. I wondered if it had to do with Justice, since his stories led me to believe he hadn't been joined with the spirit long prior to meeting me. Either way, it felt good when I could make him laugh again. For some reason, when he would start brooding, I felt as though my heart started to break. 

We stopped in front of a dilapidated warehouse. Cocking my head to the side, I wondered vaguely what this had been used for in the past. The outside wall was wooden, the doors falling off of their hinges with age and misuse. We gave each other a look somewhere between hope and resignation before continuing into the building itself. Thankfully, the inside wasn't falling apart as much as the outside. It was, however, dirty and rank. Gagging, I all but ran over to a window and opened it. 

Anders smirked at me. "Suddenly the delightful air of Darktown doesn't seem so bad, does it?" 

"Shut it, asshat," I spat as I wheezed in the less smelly air. 

He laughed again for a moment, before looking around, a frown forming on his face. "Andraste's pearly ass, this is going to take some time to clean up." I agreed with him, leaning back to take in the mess before us. The floor was dirt and stained with what I guessed was blood. There was mold and mushrooms growing all over, what appeared to be - no, I take that back, what actually was a couple piles of bones in one of the corners, as well as piles of literal shit. Yuck. Sharing a look of disgust, we laid out a plan and got right on our tasks. If this was the only option we had, then we had our work cut out for us.

~*~

I was down on my knees, scrubbing at the dirt floor when Anders came back from a trip to Lirene's. He stopped as soon as he crossed the threshold and started laughing, tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks. I muttered something about ungrateful mage bastards under my breath, which made him laugh even harder. 

"You do realize you are scrubbing at dirt, don't you, sweetheart?" He wiped away some of the tears, still chuckling. "You can't scrub the dirt out of dirt, after all."

I stood up and stomped over to him, shoving a finger into his chest. "I am not stupid, you know, I do realize that. But what I _can_ do is get it so that the dirt doesn't look like somebody was just murdered on top of it." I retracted my finger and whirled around, heading back to my work. He continued snorting a little bit, but left me alone. 

The sound of scraping made me turn around. Well, fuck me sideways, it appears he managed to wrangle together some cots. I sat back on my heels, watching him set up a few before standing up and walking over to join him. He tossed me a smile as he thanked me for the help. Soon he chatting away enthusiastically, talking about how Lirene had found these for him and was working on getting some vials for potions as well. Apparently, she was very excited to have a healer opening a free clinic for those who needed it. I let him chatter, grinning as I gave myself a mental pat on the back. Good idea, Caydee, good idea. This should help keep him busy, allow him to help others as he wishes and possibly be a way for him to form the connections he needs to rescue Karl. 

He suddenly stopped talking and gave me a cryptic look out of the corner of his eyes. Unsure what to make of that, I continued messing with the cot I was currently working on. "You know, Caydee, I never thanked you for this." His voice was low, and when he turned to look at me, his eyes were dark with an emotion I wasn't ready to see there. Padding over to me slowly, he reached out and cupped my face with both of his hands, looking down at me through half-lidded eyes. "You've done so much for me, and I have little to give you in return. I haven't even been able to help you with your memories." The rasp that I heard in his voice made me shiver in anticipation. He stepped even closer, his body now flush against mine. Leaning down, he brushed his lips against mine tentatively at first, and when I didn't pull away, he gave himself completely over to the kiss. I was frozen, mind stuttering, stuck on thoughts along the lines of _ohmygod ohmygod this feels so good holy shit_ which was completely useless. My body, however, was NOT frozen and was pressing against him, allowing me to feel every muscle where we touched, including one specific spot that was telling me _exactly_ how much he wanted this. His hands threaded into my hair, pulling me closer. I moaned into his mouth and allowed him entry when his tongue requested, melting at his ministrations. I was coming apart under him and he hadn't done more than kiss me.

_An explosion, building falling apart, people screaming, my heart breaking._

I gasped and pulled back, eyes wide with trepidation at the scene that had appeared in my mind. He reached out for me again but I slipped away before he could pull me back to him. Hands shaking, I looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry, I... I can't." Hot tears welled in my eyes, and I willed myself to get it together. "It's wrong. This feels wrong. I'm sorry," I repeated, hands closing into fists. 

He gently took hold of my chin and forced my eyes up to his amber ones, where desire had been replaced by concern and regret. "I'm the one who should be apologizing," he said softly. "I didn't mean to... to make you uncomfortable. I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me." I nodded, and he pulled me into a gentle hug, repeating "I'm sorry" over and over again softy in my ear.

Finally I pushed away and gave him a playful punch on the arm. "Stop that, you. It happens. Now, let's get back to work." My voice was a little rough from the unshed tears, and I could see him hesitate. "Friends?" I asked, reaching my hand out. He took it, a relieved smile reappearing on his face. I turned back to the cot, annoyed to find it had been pushed on its side from our brief moment of lust.

"Lirene also found something for you." I straightened up in surprise, not expecting to hear that. I turned to see him holding a battered archery target, beaming and obviously proud of himself, voice back to normal. I relaxed, happy that he seemed to be able to move on without allowing any awkwardness to come between us. "I know you said it had been a while since you last used a bow, so I thought maybe you could get some practice in."

I let out a small laugh. "Yes, I will most likely need it." I may have been exaggerating when I said it have been only a little while, but he didn't need to know that. I reached out and took it from him, fingering the dents in the sides, anticipation building. "Thank you, Anders."

"It was nothing, sweetheart. It'll be good to know that you can take care of yourself." Still grinning, he patted my arm happily. "By the way, how long has it been since you used a bow?"

I groaned. Damn it. Well, I wasn't going to lie, although I could have and probably gotten away with it. After all, I still didn't remember much of my past life, thought this one I was fairly certain of. "Um... it may or may not have been somewhere around 15 years?" I smiled guiltily at him.

His sigh of disbelief was audible enough to fill the entire building.


	6. The Wounded Coast

"Caydee, can you grab me a lyrium potion?" I nodded and walked over to the shelf of potions, selecting the one that had the most beautiful blue color. It had been three months since we'd opened the clinic, and I was finally starting to grasp the concepts of magic he had been patiently teaching me. Lyrium, I knew, was something of a catalyst for a mage's power. When his mana runs low, Anders can swig some and it will allow him to continue casting. Templars also take it, but I was a little more fuzzy on why outside of it giving them the ability to go up against mages. I knew they could develop lyrium addiction, though. Hard to believe something so beautiful could be so bad. I suppose that's not unusual.

Anders held out his hand as I placed the vial into it and drank it down in one giant gulp. I took it back and laid it by the other empty bottles waiting to be cleaned at the end of the day. We had a nice little routine going; get up, eat, make any potions we needed for the day (he had been teaching me and was rather impressed with how fast I caught on), light the lantern and open the clinic, heal, eat, heal, close the clinic, wash out the empty vials, eat, sleep. Sometimes on slow days we would close early and go hunting on the Wounded Coast or Sundermount for the herbs we needed. I had practiced faithfully with my bow and was fairly good with it now, so between the two of us we were usually fine if we ran into small raiding parties or bandits. As time pressed on, I noticed I had to be more forceful with food, as he seemed to forget he needed to eat. Occasionally I'd catch him up in the middle of the night fervently writing something he called his manifesto, and when I interrupted him, bright blue eyes would stare out at me. Justice seemed to be slowly taking more control. It worried me a bit, but I would always convince him to go back to sleep. Maybe spirits don't need to eat or sleep, but humans do. Thankfully, I seemed to be able to talk Justice into accepting this at night. 

Today had been a fairly slow day. No major injuries, no accidents, no fighting between Carta or Coterie factions. On the busier days I would try to do as much as I could to help, whether that be running potions back and forth or helping with the more minor injuries that didn't require magic. Anders was currently assisting a young woman who was pregnant. She had come to us covered in bruises and with a broken arm. We had exchanged a knowing look and he had tried to pry some information about what had happened out of her, but she kept her lips tightly shut. We knew it was most likely the father, but couldn't do anything about it. So he finished healing her, gave her a couple of health potions "just in case," and sent her on her way. He stretched, letting out a small moan of appreciation when I heard his back pop. Standing up, he directing that infuriating lazy smile at me and asked if I wanted to go out to the Coast tonight. I shrugged; better than Sundermount, in my opinion. I never voluntarily went were there were large, disgusting, poison-spitting spiders. We cleaned up, blew out the lantern and gathered our gear. Often when we did this, we ended up having a picnic because it just made sense, and today would be no exception. I tossed together a couple of simple sandwiches with the meager supplies I was able to procure and we went on our way.

~*~

"It's beautiful out here," I sighed in contentment as I dipped my toes into the waves. We had been very successful with our herb-hunting and filled our quota before sunset. So I had insisted we sit on the beach and eat, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon. It wasn't something I was able to enjoy much anymore, and I reveled in it when given the chance. Taking a bite on my sandwich, I wiggled my feet as the water splashed over them. The skirt of my dress was pulled up to my knees, so as not to get wet.

After arriving in Kirkwall, I had realized how different my own style of dress really was, and it often gathered bad attention. Thankfully, with a couple of words to Lirene, she had been able to slowly procure me some more appropriate outfits. Today I was wearing a simple green dress with a belt around my waist. I found that I often preferred dresses, as they didn't limit my movement as much as some of the more stiff leather leggings I was given. I did find it interesting that my version of leggings versus Thedas' version proved to be quite different, though it was also to my dismay. I really did miss my old way of dressing at times.

I glanced over at Anders, who was leaning back on his elbows, naked feet resting in the water. Eyes closed, head tilted up toward the sun, he looked the picture of happiness. I felt conflicting emotions arise in me; he was so handsome, so attractive that part of me wanted to crawl over to him and have my way right then and there. His flirtations had lessened significantly as of late, still I knew he wouldn't reject me. Yet after the single kiss we had shared, I had shied away from the thought of any romantic entanglement with him. There was still that other part of me, that nagging voice in the back of my head telling me it was wrong, not to mention I recalled clear as day the vision that had popped into my head when we had kissed. I watched him for a few more moments, wondering why the universe was playing such a cruel joke on me before a noise behind us startled us both out of our reverie. 

"What was that?" Anders glanced my way, reaching for his staff. I shook my head, pulling my bow to me and standing up. For all we knew, a nug had disturbed the brush and we were all jumpy over nothing. But the trip out here had went _very_ well, which was unusual. Sliding my feet into my shoes (one thing I had not been willing to part with was my comfortable shoes- it seems most everyone here wears boots and that's not my thing), I cautiously approached the greenery behind us, Anders only a few feet behind me. With a yell, a wild-looking man came running through. His short black hair was askew, his lips parted in an alarming grin. He held a staff, aimed at the two of us. Anders threw his hands into the air. "Maker, you scared us. We are not looking for a fight. I am also a mage, friend. Let us part and go our separate ways in peace tonight."

One look into this man's cruel blue eyes and I knew it was useless. Without responding, he pulled out a dagger and sliced open his arm, laughing maniacally while doing so. Shades rose up around us, along with a rage demon. My bow is not all too handy in close quarters but I didn't have another weapon so I was forced to use it almost like a dagger a few times. Anders dispatched most of the shades and together we worked on the rage demon, all the while hearing that crazed laughter. It seemed like we were going to win without much trouble when I made a mistake.

I stepped into a paralyzing glyph. 

Frozen in place, Anders still working on the rage demon, I watched in terror as the man approached me. I had no idea what he intended to do but it certainly didn't look promising. "Caydee!" Anders yelled, shooting a bolt of ice at the demon. My eyes swung his way, watching as he was slowly overpowered. No! This surely wouldn't do. I chanced a look back at the crazy man, who was still approaching. I closed my eyes and willed myself to move. I needed to get out of this glyph. Move, move, move!

Abruptly it felt as though ice was running through my veins, my blood frozen. Staggering, I found myself released suddenly, light-headed and confused.

"What in the Void are you?" The man had backed away, fear taken over his face. I leaned down and picked up my bow, notching an arrow into it and aiming it at his throat.

"Get the fuck out of here before I kill you," I growled menacingly. He stumbled backwards in his haste, turning and fleeing. I swiftly turned and released the arrow at the rage demon, hitting it in one of its eyes. Anders froze it in place, and I finished it off with another arrow, shattering it into pieces. My hand went to my head, where the beginning of a migraine was developing. I wobbled, falling down to one knee.

"CAYDEE!" Anders yelled, running over to me and catching me in his arms as I fully collapsed. Trembling, I looked into his eyes, mine pleading silently for help. He asked something, but it was lost in the roaring of my ears. Black crept into my vision and before I knew it, I was lost to the world.

~*~

I awoke to the feeling of grass beneath my feet and the sound of a fire crackling to my left. I slit open my eyes, not wanting to further aggravate the war ground that was my head. The light from the fire assaulted me and I groaned, clenching my eyes shut once more. I heard a stirring noise and soon felt a hand on my cheek.

"Caydee, sweetheart, are you awake?" a soft voice asked. I groaned again in response, shakily moving my hand up to my temples. Hands cupped my face and I felt the warm tingle of healing magic sweep through me. I yelped as the pain in my head intensified. The hands quickly receded, and I mourned their warmth upon my cheeks.

"Talk to me, Caydee, I need to know what you're feeling. I can't help if I don't," the voice pleaded. I cracked my eyes open again, this time finding my favorite amber eyes peering down at me. I moved my hand from my head to his cheek, unable to find my voice. Tears filled my eyes at my helplessness. He reached down and lifted me up, pulling me into his embrace. I closed my eyes again and just smelled him. Anders, smelling like elfroot, lightening and vanilla. I let my head fall to his shoulder and the dam burst inside me. He let me sob while he held me in his strong arms, one hand petting my hair. 

Eventually I was able to sit up. He let me, though he kept a hand on my arm and was watching me with concern. He handed me some water and I drank it greedily, my throat sore and dry. After the cup was drained, I finally felt like I could use my voice again.

"My head hurts, it feels like a migraine. And when you tried to heal it, it felt like someone took a hot poker and shoved it through my ears." He flinched, obviously uncomfortable with having caused pain. "But that's weird, right? It shouldn't hurt when you heal me?"

He shook his head. "It should have helped. I wonder..." he drifted off into thought for a moment, before starting again. "Remember how I said I had felt something akin to magic when I examined your head back at the inn in Ferelden?" I nodded, recalling his encounter with what I was referring to as my wall. "This time, when I tried to heal you, it... it felt like it sucked the magic from me." He frowned, obviously trying to come up with a way to describe it. "Almost like you had taken a hook and used it to grab onto my spell, then reeled it into yourself." 

I looked down at my hands. This made no sense. Really, that should be my new motto. I should get it tattooed on me or put on a shirt, as it seems to be my life now. I shifted so that I could see him better. "When I stepped into that glyph of paralysis, I shouldn't have been able to move. And at first, I wasn't. But I willed myself to be able to move, and it suddenly felt like my blood turned to ice. That's when he yelled at me, asked me what I was." I lowered my gaze, unsure how to continue.

Anders nodded. "Believe it or not, I saw when you overtook the glyph. I've never seen anything like it before. It appeared like the light from the glyph was flowing into your body." 

I cocked an eyebrow as a thought crossed my brain. Noooo, no. That makes no sense. But maybe? 

"Anders... could I have... absorbed it? Taken the magic from the ground and?" I didn't know how to phrase what I was trying to say. All I knew was that a certain couple of villains from Vampire Diaries were flashing through my mind (how can I remember this stupid stuff?) and I didn't like where this was going. Before he could respond, I lifted my hands up and willed something to happen.

And then I jumped when fire licked my fingers.

Anders' eyes widened and he reached out and took my hands. "You're not a mage, how is this possible?" he muttered, more to himself than I. I didn't care about that- all I cared about what the significant lessening of my headache. I pulled my hands away from his and willed it to happen again, this time holding it until the ache was gone. He watched me, curiosity evident across his face.

I shrugged. "That seemed to help my headache."

"So it's gone now?" I nodded. "Try summoning again." I did, but this time only a small flame came and almost immediately sputtered out. Try as I might, I was unable to bring any more.

He looked thoughtfully at me. "You are not a mage, you cannot cast spells, nor do you have mana. But you can steal magic and use it. I've never heard of this before. I'll need to do some research when we get back. I nodded, hand rubbing my stomach as nausea started to rise up. "Caydee? What's wrong?" Anders was looking concerned again, but before I could answer I toppled over, and darkness claimed me once again.

~*~

_My skin on fire. Pain wracking my body. Bright white light, the feeling of hands touching my temples. The feeling of a barrier breaking down._

I woke up screaming, the metallic taste of blood in the back of my throat. The thin blanket over me fell to the ground as I sat upright, clutching the sides of the cot I was on. Leaning over, I promptly vacated the contents of my stomach onto the ground. Unable to focus on my surroundings, I closed my eyes in a vain attempt to settle my stomach. My mind felt like it was burning, about to turn into ash. I was clawing at my temples, my body reacting to the pain the only way it knew: by trying to get rid of what was causing it. 

Firm hands clamped over my wrists, pulling them away from my head. I could feel blood dripping down my cheeks from where I scratched myself raw. A muffled voice was speaking, but I was lacking the ability to distinguish the words. A pause, then I felt myself being lifted. Gently I was carried and laid down on what I assumed was a bed (mine, perhaps?), then warm arms encircled me, still carefully restraining my twitching hands. The voice started again, and though I was unable to understand, I gathered from the tone that it was assurances being uttered. Moments passed, how many, I'm not sure. It could have been hours or minutes, but it felt like forever. Finally I was able to make out the words: 

"Hush now, don't cry. I'm here, you're not alone." The last part repeated slowly, carefully. I hadn't realized I had been crying until I had heard his words. I dared to open my eyes and was relieved to find that I could see again. There he was- Anders, always so sweet, holding me and helping me ride out the storm I was living. He must have realized that I came back to myself because he let go of my wrists and brought one hand up to rest on my cheek. "Sweetheart, don't cry. Tell me how to make it better." I shook my head, knowing that he couldn't make it better. He frowned, a troubled look spreading across his face. "What's wrong, Caydee?"

I choked on a sob, burying my head into his neck, breathing in his scent again, before I finally answered. "I remember."


	7. Memories

I frowned at my reflection in the water. How could this be? Anders hadn't believed me when I had explained to him that I was accustomed to looking different- quite different- on Earth. What I had expected to see upon looking at myself was my 28-year-old body, overweight from having two children and no motivation to work out, glasses to accommodate for my poor vision and a slightly enlarged thyroid from letting my hypothyroidism go untreated for a while. My eyes should have been tired, with crows feet starting around the edges, my mouth seeming to be almost permanently turned down from years of denying my depression and anxiety needed medicated. What I was currently looking at seemed to be a version of my body when I had been in high school- perhaps, 17, or 18? There were a few changes, ones that came from living a more active lifestyle with less rich foods. I was thinner, but also had some muscle from my use of the bow. Anders must have somehow healed my eyes (no real complaints on that improvement) and this body was before my hypothyroidism started, so no goiter. It did explain the prospect of my renewed virginity, not that it made me feel much better. It also explained why my jeans wouldn't fit anymore, something I had noticed at the inn oh so long ago. I would have been too busy to notice that discrepancy while dealing with those urchins.

After I had regained my memories and recovered enough to move on my own, I had tore open my bag. I carried wallet-size pictures of my children, and I had held them to my chest and cried for a long time. I missed them, so much. I wondered what they were doing, how they were coping with me being gone. Was there a body, so they and my husband could have closure? I would never get to watch them grow up, a thought that pained me more than I could describe. All I had was these two tiny pictures, some on my phone and my memory.

My name had also come back to me. Aimee Williams. Anders had asked me if I preferred to go by that, but I had declined, saying I was used to being called Caydee now. While that was true, I also felt the need to have a name different from my old life. I was hopeful that maybe it would help me move on, to not to feel the grief as strongly as I did at the time. It didn't really help, but it was a nice sentiment.

I had spent a lot of my life wishing for something different, for a life not so mundane. I would close my eyes and daydream of a world full of magic and mystery, dragons and heroes. Wizards, consulting detectives, monster hunters and aliens. I guess I got what I wished for, in the end. Life definitely wasn't boring and it certainly was the humdrum life I had been used to. But was it worth the price I paid? 

I had pulled out the few portable chargers I had carried in my bag (to keep my phone fully charged on the planes and at the airports) and set out to testing if it was possible to give them a charge with Anders' electricity. After frying one and not using enough with the other, we finally found a perfect medium and he was able to revive my phone. I wept openly when it started, leaning into his chest and breathing "thank you" into his neck over and over again. I showed him all the pictures and videos I had of my old life, explaining things when he would question them. I told him about both of my children, their names, what they liked, their little personalities. I told him of my husband, the man I had married due to having a child with him but not out of love, a mistake I had regretted but been unwilling to rectify. I had loved him, just not in the way he deserved to be loved. At least now he could have a shot at finding a woman that really, truly loves him. If there had been any doubt in Anders' mind that I was alien to Thedas, it was erased by the end of that session. We decided that it would be best if we hid that fact, because the last thing I needed was for the Chantry to catch wind of it and cry "blood magic!" But I know myself, I have an exceptionally poor memory and slip up on things a lot. I like to sing, and I have never been good at watching my mouth. So we came up with the plan that would cover any mistakes I make. I became his little sister, who was just a wee bit crazy. If anyone were to point out my odd behaviors, he could just laugh and say something akin to "yeah, that's my sister. She thinks she's from another world. Please don't encourage her." This only made me more relieved that we had closed the door to any potential romantic relationship already, since that would have only complicated things.

Frustrated, I kicked a foot in the puddle of water and disrupted the reflection. Hands fell upon my shoulders, and I turned to look into Anders' amber eyes. Without a word, he pulled me into a hug. I had also regained my dislike of being touched, but Anders seemed to be a man dependent on it, so I forced myself to get used to it from him. I knew he was only trying to comfort me and show me he cared. I relaxed into him, just letting him hold me. I enjoyed spending this time with him and was glad I got to know him when I did. He was still changing into a different man, Justice continually pulling at him to be the savior of the mages. He released me with a sad smile, and left to head back to the clinic. I followed behind him at a distance, trying not to think about what was to come.

I had not told him everything when I recovered my memory. I had suddenly understood why he seemed familiar, why all of this seemed familiar. 

This was Dragon Age. I was living in one of my video games. Which meant I had knowledge of the future. A dangerous thing, leaving me unsure of what to do. I also knew what he was to become, knew that the vision I had had while kissing him was me seeing the Chantry blow up the first time in the game, when I had been fairly in love with him. It had broke my heart.

Tears started dripping down my cheeks again as I watched him walk in front of me. Soon, a Hawke would show up and start the snowball effect. And while I was curious to see who this Hawke would be, I wasn't sure I was ready for that.

I wasn't sure I was ready for it at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter of this particular story, but I plan to continue it! Thank you to anyone who read through. This is the first fan-fiction I have written in around 10 years, so I am a bit rusty. <3


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